


Mark 68

by TeyrianTimelord



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Humor, Light-Hearted, Nothing explicit, PG13 sex, Tony made another thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-19
Updated: 2019-09-19
Packaged: 2020-10-24 06:53:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20701757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeyrianTimelord/pseuds/TeyrianTimelord
Summary: “I just want to keep you from being too laissez faire with your love life. Let me give you something I know will help. I designed it myself. Top notch, state of the art, retails for $1,200 in the exclusive boutiques. I call it the Mark 68… use this, and I promise she’ll owe you one.”Tony tries improving the quality of Steve's bedroom activities... and Natasha is not impressed.





	Mark 68

**Author's Note:**

> Nothing explicit, just some Fluffy Flufferson McFluff on Fluff. Enjoy!

Steve could feel the heat of Tony’s stare from across the kitchen, the deliberately loud slurping of his coffee clearing up any doubt that he wanted to talk but was going to wait for the other man to ask first. After a few moments of letting him stew, Steve finally put down his newspaper and spun his chair around. 

“Something I can do for you, Tony?” 

The grin that overtook his face as he practically waltzed from the coffeemaker to Steve’s end of the table could rival the Cheshire Cat. 

“No, Cap, it’s what I can do for you,” he answered in a rehearsed voice like a sales pitch. “I noticed things between you and our favorite femme fatale seem to be going well.” 

A sigh rose in Steve’s lungs, but he brought himself to repress it long enough to humor his friend. 

“Not that it’s any of your business, but yes, we’re fine,” he said matter-of-factly. 

Tony shook his head and make a ‘tsk tsk’ noise that Steve had a strong suspicion would have been his response no matter what answer he gave him. 

“‘Fine,’ isn’t good enough, Boy Scout,” he chimed, hopping up on the dining room table to be as in the way as possible. “Natasha’s a modern woman, my friend, and times have changed since the last time you and a girl-.”

“Make your point or I’m leaving,” Steve snapped. 

He let out a disappointed sigh. 

“If you rush Romanoff like this, I feel very sorry for her,” Tony retorted. “I just want to keep you from being too laissez faire with your love life. Let me give you something I know will help.” 

Seemingly out of nowhere, a silver box about 9 inches long and 4 inches wide and deep appeared on the table in front of him. There were no markings, no pictures, nothing but cool metal that gleamed in the morning light from the kitchen window. Tony gave Steve a few seconds of silence to speculate before continuing. 

“I designed it myself. Top notch, state of the art, retails for $1,200 in the exclusive boutiques. I call it the Mark 68… use this, and I promise she’ll owe you one.” 

*** 

Even after four years of friendship and five months of “dating” (it seemed odd to use that word after everything they’d been through), it never ceased to amaze Steve just how soft Natasha could be when she wanted to. He’d seen her kill a man as effortlessly as he cooked breakfast, but the lightness of her fingertips on his back when she unzipped the back of his suit sent warmth through his whole body no matter how many times she did it. Today was no exception, the aching in his body after a two day solo mission melting away with the delicateness of her touch. 

“You took one hell of a beating,” Nat murumed, tracing the bruises around his shoulders and his ribs.

To say he didn’t bruise easy was an understatement. 

“They’ll be gone by morning,” he reassured as she continued to peel away layers of cordura caked in blood and damp with sweat. “Besides, you should see the other guys.”

Natasha smirked. She knew better than to worry about him too much. While Avengers work had him running ragged lately, she was still laying low after the disaster that was leaking every piece of SHIELD data and exposing herself on national television. He could see in the way she moved that it was driving her crazy, but a selfish piece of him was happy he got to come home to see her safe... albeit a little anxious. 

“Soon, hopefully,” she replied, throwing him a pair of sweatpants while he finished removing his battered gear. 

He collapsed back on the bed, more exhausted that he’d felt in a long time. Tracking the remains of HYDRA was a relentless and oddly thankless job. No matter how many cells the team destroyed, there always seemed to be more.  _ Cut off one head and two more will take its place  _ was right. Not having the person he could trust most at his side in the field only made it more draining. 

Nat followed closely behind, wearing only her underwear and one of his old button downs. She’d embraced clothes stealing wholeheartedly. Steve let her push him onto his stomach and straddle his waist so she could press the heels of her palms deep into the muscles of his back. She was strong enough to work through the knots but still gentle enough that she seemed to radiate relief itself. A deep moan escaped his throat, and it made Natasha chuckle. She leaned down and planted a kiss right between his shoulder blades. 

“I missed you,” he said against the pillow. 

“I missed you too,” she hummed without taking her lips off his skin.

Instead, she kissed her way a few inches down his spine. He couldn’t take it anymore and quickly rolled over again so he could embrace her fully. His fingers of one hand found holds in the soft waves of her hair, while the other took its place on her hip. Nat fit against him so naturally it was as if they were designed to be a matching set. He put his lips against hers in what he intended to be a comfortably slow kiss, but was met with a much more impassioned reciprocation. Her hands swiftly moved down his chest to the waistband of his pants and gave a quick tug. Eager excitement pulsed through him, but a nagging voice echoed in the back of his head.  _ ‘Fine’ isn’t good enough, Boy Scout. Natasha is a modern woman and times have changed.  _ He couldn’t help but wonder…

“Nat,” he interrupted, pulling away just enough to catch is breath. “Do you… want to try something different?”

This made her pause and cock an eyebrow. 

“Do you need me to do something  _ different _ ?” she asked, and he couldn’t tell if her tone of voice was playful or serious. 

He felt his face flush with embarrassment. 

“No! I mean, it’s not something for you to do, it’s just, Tony gave me this thing and I thought-” 

Nat cut off his blundering stammers with a musical laugh that filled the whole suite. Despite the redness that had taken over his ears, he couldn’t help but feel relieved at the sound. 

“Steve, wanting to use a toy isn’t something you need to be ashamed of,” she said with a chuckle. “But at the same time, you don’t have to let Tony tell you what to do in bed.”

“I know that!” he defended a little too quickly, which made her laugh even more. 

He sighed in a bit of defeat, then continued, “If there’s a way I can make you feel even better, I want to try it. 

Her laughter quickly dropped off, but the genuine smile on her face took on a glow that seemed to light up the room. She put one of her hands to his cheek in a gesture that could only be described as  _ loving _ . 

“It’s been a very long time since anyone has felt that way,” she said. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you, Rogers.” 

***

Natasha let out a small moan and arched her back slightly, but that was… it. Nothing more than was usual for their lightest foreplay. 

“Am I using this right?” Steve asked, trying to decipher the buttons of the remote that came with Tony’s ‘Mark 68.’

He pressed another one, admittedly at random, and while she bucked a bit at the surprise change in pace that was… again, it. 

“No… you’re doing… fine,” Natasha answered between her panting. 

Though she’d never admit it, she was exhausted. They had been at this thing for over an hour now and while every so often she seemed  _ so close,  _ mission objective was never achieved. Steve for one was baffled. Tony was one of the foremost engineering minds of the century. How on fucking earth had he managed to create a thousand dollar sex toy that  _ didn’t work?! _

“Stop, stop, stop!” she finally ordered, suddenly kicking the remote out of his hand like he’d seen her kick the sides of men’s heads on multiple occasions. 

In an instant, the Mark 68 was on the other side of the room and Steve’s back was pressed against the wall, Nat’s legs wrapped around his waist and hands pulling relentlessly at his hair. 

“I swear to God, Steve, if you don’t fuck me yourself right now, I’ll never let you leave this room.” 

He wanted to make a snarky comment, but she didn’t give him the opportunity. 

***

Steve could hear Tony before seeing him, an eager pep in his step apparent from the heavier than usual footfalls on the kitchen tile. Unlike last week, he skipped the coffee lear completely and went straight to the chair at Steve’s side. He knew what was coming next, but he smugly kept his nose in the newspaper anyway. The uncomfortable silence obviously caused the awkward antsiness he was hoping for. Tony shifted his weight back and forth in his seat and began tapping his foot impatiently. 

“Something I can do for you?” Steve parroted from their previous interaction. 

“Don’t play dumb, Cap, I want to know how it went,” he said, his voice dripping curiosity. 

It took a decent amount of effort to keep the smugness from taking over his grin  _ too  _ much as he casually put the paper aside and nonchalantly leaned back in his chair. 

“You know, Tony, I think you’re too reliant on technology. There are some things you just have to do the old fashioned way to get the results you want.” 

He looked out the window instead of at the shock and disbelief overtaking Tony. 

“You can’t be serious. There’s no way Mr. Wholesome Homegrown Hero beat the Mark 68. No way in hell.” 

Steve shrugged. 

“You don’t have to take my word for it. Ask Pepper what she and Nat were talking about this morning over brunch.” 


End file.
